Soul Mates
by TheLyonesse
Summary: A new take on the romance between Alistair and F/Cousland. The story is based on the idea of reincarnation and that souls can find each other after death in a new life - AU
1. Prologue

_This story is based partially on my favourite book 'Labyrinth' by Kate Mosse in which reincarnation plays a huge part. This story is based mainly around reincarnation, but I've twisted the ideas to fit in better with the ideas found in Dragon Age. _

_This is ultimately an AU, as it's based 300 years after the Fifth Blight and even after the Sixth and Seventh Blight's, but you'll recognise the characters as they are introduced. _

_Hopefully you will enjoy the story as it unfolds, I don't really know how it will end, I'm just writing it as it comes to me. _

_As always, read and review, even if it's just a few words or a review saying you don't like it… it's always nice to know what people think of my work, even if it's bad. _

_Bioware own everything Dragon Age related, the story is my own, but the characters, ideas and flashbacks are based upon the wonderful work of the Bioware writers. I don't make any money from this story it is purely for pleasure._

_-TheLyonesse-_

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**Prologue**

Sweat drips down his forehead, carving out a path in the dirt and grime that has accumulated there, as he excavates the never-ending site. All around him are heaps of dirt and in front of him stands a small pile of artifacts, shining dully in the midday sun. At first, he ignores the rivulets of sweat, but as they begin to stream into his eyes he stops and wipes his forehead with a dirty rag.

Simeon had been digging up the site for the entire morning, unearthing precious artifacts to be stored safely in the new museum at Denerim. Ever since Ostagar had been completely destroyed in the Seventh Blight, historians had taken an extreme interest in the site, hoping to recover the valuables that had been buried there.

Strands of black hair have come loose from the leather hair band that once bound it. He tucks the strands behind his ear before wiping his forehead again and securing his shoulder length hair back into its band.

Concentration broken, Simeon surveys the site around him. Ostagar is much destroyed, reduced to nothing more than a pile of rubble by the largest Darkspawn horde ever to attack Ferelden. He stretches his muscular arms, lightly tanned by the sun, and stretches them above his head.

Dressed in simple black leggings, a sleeveless green tunic and firm leather boots, he feels his temperature rising in the blaring sun and reaches for the dirty rag again. Simeon unscrews the top from his water skin and drinks the liquid from within. Its warm, but he's far too thirsty to care about its temperature and glugs it down in massive gulps. He makes his way over to a large tree and sits beneath it, seeking shelter from the suns rays beneath the thick foliage.

In the distance Simeon can make out the rest of the diggers, his companions working furiously in the blazing heat, desperate to uncover some long forgotten secret, vying to discover their fame and fortune beneath the ancient rubble. He can see Vasha, the Antivan, in her trademark headscarf digging beneath what was once an impressive stone archway. He seems to be the only one taking a break from the heavy and monotonous work of digging and scraping, brushing and recording; it had sounded easy on the job pamphlet.

He's tempted to go and join his companions, see if better spoils can be found at their patch, but something keeps him at his site. He'd noticed something glinting in the sunlight earlier in the morning, peeking out from underneath an enormous boulder, and had been digging around it ever since, finding mediocre artifacts along the way. He wasn't sure what it was or even how big it was, but felt his luck was about to change. He wasn't going to leave his site so someone else could claim his discovery.

He knows all too well he should find the leader of the group and inform them he was on to something, perhaps even call Vasha over and share the excitement. He's not a trained archaeologist, unlike Vasha, merely a volunteer who had picked up the pamphlet and was eager to do something worthwhile with his visit from Orlais. He feels he has something to prove to the others, who have all found interesting items whilst digging. Simeon was yet to find anything other than coins or hair combs, and didn't want to share _his _discovery with anyone else.

He drains the last of his water from its skin and relishes the coolness of the shade for a few more moments, before returning to his dig spot. For the next few hours he works tirelessly under the ever blazing sun, only the sounds of insects and birds acting as a distraction from the clang of metal on stone and the scraping of dirt beneath tools. The sweat rolls down his face like a waterfall would a cliff-face and he can feel it pooling at the bottom of his back. Finally, as the sun begins to sag lower in the sky, the gap beneath the boulder is big enough for him to reach in and grab the artifact. His heart flutters as he pulls out an exquisite sword, adorned with the Theirin crest and the symbol of the Good King Alistair; a mabari between two laurel leaves… could he possibly have found such an important item? He gently places the sword next to the pile of artifacts, under a discarded piece of cloth, and returns to digging beneath the boulder, hoping to find something else of significance, desperate to prove his worth.

After a few moments of frantic digging, his hands collide with an unknown material, not metal nor stone… almost like wood. He feels his heart pound with excitement as bone is revealed to him. He feels his stomach trying to escape from his mouth as further digging reveals two skeletons lying side by side, four empty eye sockets staring up at him. He knows now he can no longer keep it to himself, he needs to call the leader of the expedition, Nahara, over. His discovery is no longer _his. _He yells her name, hears his voice escaping his throat coated with thick excitement.

He feels Nahara by his side in mere moments, her excitement radiating from every pore, her crystal blue eyes glinting in the fading sunlight.

"Amazing" she's saying to him, her eyes scanning the ancient bones, looking for a clue to their identities, "you find anything else?"

He points to the sword obscured by the cloth, her eyes widen in surprise as they fall across the Theirin-Cousland heraldry, her mind working out the implications of the discovery. Her eyes roam across the skeletons and fall on something glinting in the sunlight. A signet ring, shining like a beacon on a bony finger, two mabari's rearing proudly on its surface; the skeleton was a Theirin.

"He's a Theirin… that's King Alistair's sword… these two must be our Queen Elissa and He" Nahara's words were ringing in his ears, he'd done it… made an amazing discovery and it was all _his. _

An hour later and the remains had been excavated and transferred carefully into boxes, ready to be reassembled in the Royal Tomb; they wouldn't be displayed like some common artifact in a museum for others to muse over, they would be given a proper re-burial.

Simeon was standing, a smile on his face, watching Vasha and Nahara take the boxes away. He had done it, finally found something worthwhile… the remains of Ferelden's most famed and respected rulers, thought to have been lost forever in the destruction of Ostagar.

He surveys the site where he found them; a supernatural energy reverberates in the air. He suddenly feels like he has disturbed something he shouldn't have. A gust of wind whips his hair out of its band and into his face and he swears he can hear whispers carried along in the air. His skin is prickling under his clothing, his brain humming with an energy he can't explain, something is not right. He turns around in a circle, can feel eyes upon him, but nobody is there.

"Are you alright?" Vasha brings him back to reality; his body eases at her words

"Funny non? I spend the month trying to find something better than coin and now I wish I hadn't" his thick Orlesian accent cutting the air like a knife.

"These lands are not cursed mio amica, all will be well" her Antivan accent returning his call.

He watches her walk away; the uneasy feeling still surrounds him. Footsteps shuffle behind him and he jumps around, face-to-face with the air and nothing more. He chuckles a little to himself, at his nervousness and turns back to his site. His heart stops as he swears he can see two figures standing by the newly unearthed tomb. Dressed in ancient clothing, crowns atop their faint heads, they look to him and smile, before disappearing as quickly as they came.

He decides this is a bad sign. He knows he should have left the site alone. Yet, the figures did not scare him, nor cause him harm. He smiles as he walks away from his site, wondering what the figures meant, wondering if he was perhaps part of something more significant… little did he know how right he was.


	2. Precious Children

_The Prologue continues, hope you enjoy where the story goes. _

_This will be the last chapter in the prologue and then the real story will continue. I'm trying out a different writing style in the first two chapters, so I hope you like it. I've rewritten this chapter several times as I haven't always been happy with it. _

_As always enjoy the chapter and please leave a review, a few words are better than none and it lets me know what people think. Apologies for the late upload… I have been camping in Cornwall… no internet or electricity! _

_-TheLyonesse-_

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**Prologue**

Far away from Ostagar, almost at the other side of the country, a young woman is lying on a luxurious bed. Her chocolate brown hair is matted from the exertion of labour, her violet eyes are widened with fright. The enormous swell of her belly blocks her view of what is happening, the mage doing her best to ease the pain of the birth. Her husband sits quietly by her side, wiping her brow and squeezing her hand, murmuring words of comfort to his distressed wife.

Castle Cousland has burst to life, servants coming and going with warm towels, blankets and water for their mistress. She doesn't notice them, mind only focused on the immense pain her soon to be child is causing her. The mage murmur's a spell and the pain is lifted a little, but the woman is overcome with a desperate urge to push.

This is Aurora Cousland's first child and at only sixteen years old, her body is not quite ready for the trauma. She pushes and screams as she feels everything as the tiny child fights its way into the world. Her screams ring out in the velvety blackness of the night, causing those within earshot to stop and listen a while, wondering what is unfolding within the castle walls. Rowan Cousland shifts uncomfortably, unable to do anything to ease his wife's pain. She is exhausted and can push no more.

A gust of wind forces its way through the window and bounces off the walls, before whipping around Aurora's legs. She screams out in surprise at the freezing wind as it seems to enter her. Her whole body tingles, feels like it's on fire, she cannot scream, she cannot move. She is terrified. Then, as suddenly as the sensation came, it stops. Aurora lays still for a moment, her eyes wide and shining with tears, before her body jolts her back to reality and tells her to push. After a few more moments she feels relief as the babe is pushed into the world, gasps elicited from everyone in the room.

"It's a girl" she hears the mage shriek with excitement, wrapping the child up in blankets. Her husband is kissing her head, his smile radiant and infectious and she can't help but smile back at him. Her daughter is placed into her arms, a beautiful sight to behold. Her hair is her fathers, black as a raven's wing and thick, already curling, her eyes are a Cousland trait… large and violet and shining like beacons in the night.

She smiles at her daughter, love rushing through her veins, knowing she will never let a soul harm her.

"Sophia" she murmurs to the room "Welcome to the world Sophia Cousland"

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A few miles away from Highever, the city of Denerim lies silent under the thick blanket of night. The only activity comes from a mage, dressed in pale robes, hurrying across the Courtyard of the Palace. He makes his way quickly across the cobbles and nods to the burly guards at the enormous, double doors. Once inside, his feet find their destination quickly and within moments he's standing outside the carved doors to the Royal Quarters, listening to the faint cries from within.

He pushes the heavy doors and strides into the room, all eyes are on him as he marches toward the whimpering woman.

She is led on the floor in front of the fireplace, clearly unable to make it to the bed. Her strawberry blonde hair is matted and sticking to her face, her breaths short and quick. The King is standing solemnly, watching his precious wife deliver the future heir, daring not to interfere with the birth. The mage positions himself at Grace Theirin's feet, she is crowning, the baby is well on its way. She locks her blue eyes onto his, terrified of the ordeal and he tries his best to soothe her, muttering a healing spell to take away some of the pain.

"Is she…alright?" Lyndon Theirin's voice breaks into the mages mind, it's heavy with worry. He turns to face the King, his grey eyes locking onto his honeyed ones, filled with an unspeakable panic.

"She is well, my Lord… the babe is almost with us" A look of relief spreads across the King's face. He kneels next to his wife and takes her slender hand into his, soothing her with words of comfort. She begins to push, frantic screams escaping from her throat, her husband trying to keep her calm. The room is warm and he can feel her skin burning up under his hands, rivulets of sweat coursing their way down her skin.

A gust of wind blows down the chimney, extinguishing the flames on entry. It seems to travel around the room, venturing over and under anything that gets in its way. It hovers above the mage before whipping around the young Queen's legs, making the air reverberate around her. She feels a pushing sensation as the wind seems to enter her, causing her whole body to tingle and tremble. Her voice is lost in her throat, her legs as heavy as stone. She is unable to move, unable to do anything to stop the unusual sensation. Then, as soon as it came… it's gone, her body slowly coming back to normality. Grace feels an urgent need to push and as she does she howls in pain, causing all those nearby to stop what they are doing. A few more pushes and a tiny baby is pushed into the world. It's a boy, his hair as strawberry blonde as his mother's… his eyes as honeyed as his father's. Grace feels her husband's lips upon hers as he welcomes his son into the world, a huge smile settled onto his handsome face.

"Welcome to Ferelden, my son… one day all of this will be yours" He picks up his son and walks him over to the window, staring at the stillness of the night "You will be named after the greatest king Ferelden has ever known; Calanhad. My Calan, you are the greatest joy a father could ask for" He places a kiss on his sons forehead before handing him back to the waiting arms of his wife. The babe nestles into her bosom, searching furiously for a nipple, taking a much needed drink from the globes of life.

She allows her son the meal he so desires and silently thanks the Maker for a healthy baby, the boy both she and her husband had so desperately wanted. He would be their third child, joining Aurelia and Ophelia; twins two years Calan's senior.

* * *

The years that followed the birth of these two precious children were filled with happiness and love, though their unusual personalities didn't escape the eyes of the people of Ferelden.

Sophia Cousland was perhaps the most unusual, distant and erratic, often looking as if she didn't belong. She styled her hair in ancient, long forgotten styles and wore dresses of yesterdays fashion, often at the expense of laughter from the other noble women. It took Sophia a long time to understand the fashion of Ferelden, even once she'd got the hang of it, she still clung to her ancient hairstyles. Only wearing modern ones to special events.

Calan Theirin was not so unusual, but he definitely did not share his father's love of ruling. He wanted nothing more than to escape the confines of the Palace and seek out his own adventures in the world of Thedas. He was frequently caught running away from the Palace and his so called duty, dragged back kicking and screaming and chastised by his mother. Calan was also an incredibly talented swordsman and his father had often told him if he wasn't Prince, he'd make a fine Knight, those were Calan's favourite compliments.

_Soul mates, they say, will wait for an eternity to be together, crossing oceans and passing mountains to be in each others arms. Death is merely a barrier of time._


	3. A Lady's Freedom

_Firstly, let me apologise for the extreme lack of updates on this story. I've been preoccupied trying to find a job and sorting everything out. I've had no time to upload, let alone write. So HUGE apologies to everyone who has subscribed, waiting for updates. _

_Secondly, thank you to everyone who has read thus far and has been patiently waiting for the story to continue. _

_Here the proper story starts. It's an AU and a little different to the DA:O story, but I hope you can recognise the key characters from here-on-in. _

_As always, enjoy the chapter and review if you can, it's always nice to hear what people think. _

_-TheLyonesse-_

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**A Lady's Freedom**

She sat on her window seat gazing out to the snow covered lands of Highever, watching people go about their daily business without a care in the world. Her body ached to be amongst them, living a normal life as far away from the Castle as she could get.

Sophia Cousland spent most of her days this way, longing to be one of the people outside the confines of the Castle walls, aching to know what it felt like to be truly free. Today, however, she felt it more than usual. Today was her last day of freedom; tomorrow she would marry Leopold Artien, an Orlesian prince ten years older than her and the person she hated most in the world.

Sophia had always been a strong minded individual, had always known what she wanted and had never been afraid to ask for it. But no amount of begging and temper tantrums was going to stop this arranged marriage; a marriage that had been arranged since before Sophia was even born.

Her sixteenth birthday had been a week before today and Sophia was now a woman in the eyes of Thedas. Wedding preparations had begun on her fifteenth birthday the year before, with Sophia growing ever more furious at the whole ridiculous situation. She'd never even met the man for Maker's sake, how was she supposed to know if she loved him? What good was a wedding without love?

She'd often been chastised for her naïve outlook on love, was laughed at when she told her parents she wanted to marry for true love and not for power or status. Her mother told her that she would grow to love her new husband, even if she didn't love him on her wedding day. Sophia had tried desperately to make her mother come round to her way of thinking, but the Cousland's were great believers in tradition, and would not be swayed from their decision. Sophia would marry Leopold, whether she liked it or not.

A soft knocking on her door roused her from her thoughts and she turned to see her mother cautiously enter her quarters, her violet eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

"Sophia, the dress fitter is here with your dress, will you try it on?" her voice was soft and pleading, airing on the side of caution. She knew her daughter's temper well, knew how against the marriage she was. She was trying her hardest not to upset her at such a crucial time.

"I shall mother, if it pleases you" their identical eyes met and Aurora smiled at her daughter. She'd grown into a beautiful woman, as she knew she would, and would make a fine wife and future queen of Orlais.

Aurora opened the door wider and ushered a short, round woman, carrying an enormous dress, into the room. She marched over to Sophia, placed the dress on a nearby chair and clapped her hands, instructing her to stand. Sophia did as she was told and allowed the woman to undo her day dress and remove it, leaving her standing in her undergarments. She shivered in the chill winter sun, goose bumps spreading across her skin.

"Arms up" the round woman barked, pulling Sophia's arms up before she even got a chance to move them. A chemise was forced over her arms and pulled into place, secured with silk ties. An underskirt was then forced over her head and pulled, roughly, into place around her hips.

"Can I help with anything Enra?" Aurora asked gently, eyeing the stout woman suspiciously.

"The corset" she snapped, pointing at a splendid cream corset adorned with intricate gold motifs. Sophia stared at Enra open mouthed, her manners left little to the imagination. She was talking to the Teryna as if she were a mere commoner. "Close your mouth girl, you are Lady"

"And you would do well to remember that!" Sophia snapped, glaring at the old woman in front of her. Enra merely nodded and took the corset from a wide eyed Aurora and proceeded to tie the corset, a little too roughly.

An hour later and Sophia was in her wedding gown. Her mother was looking at her with tears in her eyes, a smile spread across her full lips. Enra looked pleased with her creation. Sophia however was baffled. The gown was huge, bigger than anything she had ever laid her eyes on. The hips extended further than she could stretch her arms and would make fitting through even the largest door impossible. The train was at least twelve foot long and her veil even longer. It was made from heavy, ivory silk and taffeta adorned with beautiful, delicate floral designs. It was the ugliest thing she had ever seen. Prince Leopold would surely laugh at her.

"Well?" Enra asked shortly, eyeing Sophia, searching for an answer.

"I hate it!" she replied "It's hideous, how do you expect me to get out of the Castle? Let alone fit into the church?"

Aurora looked embarrassed by her daughters outburst, but Enra didn't seem phased. She was used to noble children and their temper tantrums. Arranged marriages were not for everyone, and more often than not, it was the children who paid the price.

"Very well Lady Sophia" her tone softened "Do you have any suggestion?"

Sophia looked at her mother and her heart sunk, she looked defeated. She had never been one for tradition, but Sophia understood how much it meant to her mother.

"Just make everything smaller" Sophia replied "It's far too big and heavy, i will never last an entire day in this dress" She forced a smile in Enra's direction and the dressmaker returned it "and maybe, a little more traditional" She still did not intend to go through with the wedding, had no idea how she was going to get out of it. But she intended to keep everyone as happy as she could in the run-up to the big day.


	4. Escape

**Sorry for the lack of updates. I have been working on my Thor Fanfic and redecorating, so things have been a little hectic.**

**Thank you for all the reviews and views, it's great to see people enjoying my work.**

**I hope you enjoy this next chapter too :)**

**As always, please read and review, they really do mean a lot to me :)**

**-TheLyonesse-**

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**Escape**

"A week" she yelled, aghast "he'll be here in a week?"

Aurora Cousland had just delivered the news that Sophia would be a wife within the week, that her husband was en route from Orlais, and it was safe to assume that the young Lady was not impressed.

"Please darling, don't cause a scene" Aurora scolded gently, her violet eyes narrowed at her young daughter.

"Mother, I'm begging you, I cannot be wed to a man I have never met" tears were pooling in her eyes, she was desperate. Something deep within her soul told her that this union was wrong. She couldn't explain it. It was almost as if her very bones were aching at the idea, as if her heart was breaking in her chest. She would not marry this stranger and she would do everything she could to stop it.

"The decision has been made Sophia and it is final" her mother's words were firm and final. It seemed that there was no way out.

"And I have no say in whom I am to spend the rest of my life with?"

"Darling, the women of Ferelden are not remembered for their adventures or their inventions, but for the partnerships they make and the children they produce. You will never be an explorer or a Grey Warden; such dreams were not meant for us. It is not what we were created for"

Sometimes she hated her mother's old fashioned view on the world. Why couldn't she be a Grey Warden? The most famous Grey Warden in history was a female and went on to be the most respected Queen in Ferelden's historic past. If all she aspired to was a glorified housewife, then she was no better than the snobs of the court. She knew she was destined for better things, even if her mother said otherwise.

"I will never be like you" she sobbed quietly "I don't want to be like you! I don't want to be locked up in a cage like a pretty bird for everyone to see. I want adventure; I want to live outside these four walls… please mother… please don't lock me up"

Sophia knew she may have pushed it too far this time. For all her hard exterior, her mother was a gentle soul who didn't like having her traditions questioned. Aurora looked her in the eye and held her gaze for a moment, before turning her back and walking briskly out of the room.

"Maker save me" Sophia pleaded quietly, padding softly over to her window seat; she was in trouble now. Sitting in her favourite place gave her time to think. She began twisting her long, dark hair into a braid, all the while watching the people of Highever go about their business. Now, more than ever she longed to be with them, but she was a stranger to the outside world. She was educated in matters of politics and state, the maps of Ferelden were imprinted clearly on her mind, but she'd never experienced them. She was an only child, the sole heir of the fortune and titles of the Couslands, they had treated her like she was a fine, priceless antique, terrified that she would break and the lands would have to pass to someone else; someone unworthy. Her noble blood was not a blessing, it was her prison sentence.

A gentle knocking at her door roused her from her thoughts.

"Pup?" her father's familiar voice flooded into the room, she couldn't help but smile. He stood in the doorway in his favourite, blue doublet and black leggings. He was a sight; taller than average and handsome, Aurora was considered lucky by all the noble women in court. He gave a nod to his daughter and strode into the room, brown eyes all full of concern and worry. She could tell he was making sure she wasn't angry; her temper was renowned throughout the castle.

He walked over to her and squeezed onto the window seat; he smelled of smoked cedar and she knew he'd come straight from his study. He spent so much time in there, though doing what she did not know. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder and revelled in him for just a moment; breathing in the woody scent she'd come to know as his. She never saw her father as often as she liked, so she savoured every moment alone with him.

"Now tell me" he started softly, his voice deep and questioning "what has happened?"

"Everything is going wrong" she mumbled quietly "I don't want to marry, I'm barely old enough to be a wife..." she chewed her bottom lip, a habit she'd had since she could remember; it was a great way to work out the frustration she felt within. Her mother hated it. "I especially don't want to marry someone I've never met and do not love"

"I never did like your mother's old fashioned views" He wrapped an arm around her and took a deep breath. For a moment he was silent and she wondered what he was thinking. He pulled her closer "Sophia... i do not think it is within my power to stop this union... but i could not live with myself if you were unhappy..."

"Father?" her brows knitted together in confusion, what was he going to do?

"Tomorrow i leave for Denerim for a meeting with King Lyndon... you will come with me, i will think of a solution to end this madness"

She let the words sink in a moment before standing and kissing her father's forehead. She knew how difficult it was for him to betray his wife's wishes, she was grateful. Butterflies stirred in her stomach at the prospect of going to Denerim; for a woman who had never left the confines of the Castle, it was an adventure.

"You will never know how much i appreciate you father"

He stood and kissed her forehead, a sign of thanks and gratitude between the two. He turned to leave, and just before exiting he turned to her and touched his finger to his nose, before laughing and walking out into the hallway.

She wasn't to tell her mother.

* * *

_Chapter was edited after uploading due to the fact i uploaded the wrong document... apologies... _


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